


False Edge

by Riathel



Series: 200 Word Challenges (Based on Prompts, Kinks, or Whimsy) [4]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka
Genre: 200 Word Challenge, Breathplay, Knifeplay, M/M, The Doctor (Doctor Who) is a Mess, regeneration chicken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riathel/pseuds/Riathel
Summary: The Doctor suggests something to get the blood flowing.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Series: 200 Word Challenges (Based on Prompts, Kinks, or Whimsy) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609660
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	False Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [extryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extryn/gifts).



The edge of the knife rests against the Doctor’s hyoid bone, too steady against his skin. There should be at least some degree of tremor, for authenticity’s sake; he troubleshoots most of the problem before he remembers, very soon, it won’t matter how realistic the Master’s body is. Nothing will.

“Go on,” he urges, the whiskey burning at the back of his throat always less comforting than he hopes it will be. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted this.”

The Master hums, sceptical. “It loses a certain degree of appeal when you throw yourself onto the executioner’s blade.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but chokes on more than his need.

“Fear not, my dear,” the Master counsels him, pale fingers pressing into the wound. He fingers it open further, curling around the carotid tenderly. The Doctor gags as the grip turns abruptly violent. “Your suffering is its own allure.”

Regeneration energy flares behind his eyes as his blood covers the ceiling; he forces it back.

The Master’s eyes widen. “Oh, you  _ wretch,_"  he mutters, holding the laceration together. The Doctor would laugh if he weren’t so intent on dying.

\--

When he wakes up, throat stapled, he sobs instead.


End file.
